The end of his world
by AngelAveline
Summary: A disdain that became love, and ended with tragedy. m just in case.. First published fic


**A/n : My first fic! I hope you enjoy~**

He had to admit, at first he was not too thrilled to learn of his master choosing a partner for his next mission. And upon seeing her for the first time, his unenthusiastic attitude became even more so. He silently judged this sad excuse for an assassin. Her name was Aveline de Grandpre, her French origin evident when she spoke. But it was not her accent that made him raise a brow. It was her in general.

He began with her scars. More precise, the one that left a line from her brow to her supple lips. Eyes moving lower he noticed her hands were also painted in scars, and he wondered just how many she had. His first thought was simple. This assassin was careless. And how she became an Assassin was far beyond him. Her body did not change his mind about her either. She was thin, like a stick in the mud prepared to snap under pressure. It seemed as though she would crumble if he had dared to lay a hand on her, which he had no intentions to unless it was to rid himself of her.

Overall, he found himself whining. He bitched, pissed and moaned to his master Achilles. He did not want to traverse the lands with this sad excuse for awarrior. But he had no choice. And he gave her little time to prepare, as more of a disdainful gesture rather then a test. True, an assassin needed to be prepared for anything at the drop of a hat, but his actions were of pure spite. And the two rode in silence for the better half of their long journey. As well as action less. He needed to kill something. He needed an escape from the absolute annoyance he felt towards both Aveline and his master. And he got what he desired.

Before them, a stage coach. And behind trekked several slaves, two females with a small child, and four men. Connor heard Aveline curse in her native tongue beneath her breath. He simply wanted to be done with this, but she would not have him do anything, he realized.  
" don't. " was all she said as she sauntered by his horse, hers tied behind a tree not too far behind. She had seen this coming way before he, which surprised him. And secondly, her wardrobe had changed. No longer was her clad in navy and black. Now, her guise was that of a dirty slave, and this change befuddled him more then anything.  
" stay hidden and please, do not draw attention to yourself, if at all possible. "  
She openly insulted his abilities, and he knew all to well why. And though taking orders from her was not on his agenda, he did as she asked, climbing a tree to follow the coach from above.

Aveline approach the small group, immediately gaining the attention of the slaves keeper. The bulky man approached her, his large hands gripping her jaw hard.  
" seems to me like we have found ourself a lost sheep. " he snickered, watching the fake fear in her eyes rise. " perfect timing. "  
He roughly shoved her into the others, causing Aveline to fall into the dirt. She had done this far too many times, and knew just what they wanted to see. And as they began their steady wall, from the corner of her eyes she watch Connor. He seemed so calm, walking along the branches of the trees as if they were dirt roads. And the fact that he did so for what seemed like hours also surprised her.

" please.. " her attention flashed to one of the women, who had fallen to the dirt from pure exhaustion and lack of food. " please..let us rest sir.. "  
The way she spoke disgusted Aveline, causing her lip to curl with anger. She addressed this demon with respect, which was beyond her. And her rage grew even more as the man drew back his whip. But she knew how to handle this, and did something that shock each and every bystander.

The French African moved her body between the slave keep and the fallen woman just as the whip came down in a flash, the leather making direct contact to her back. Connor watched, almost horrified, cringing to the sound of the whip making contact. And what shocked him most was the fact that she did not make any noise. She did not Flench or cry out. And she did not stay down like any other slave would. No. She bucked right back up to him, looking him dead in the eyes, her features nearly expressionless.

" why..you little bitch. I'll teach you to mess with me. " he drew back foolishly again, but before he had a chance to bring his arm down, she was inches from his body, hands on either side of his face.  
" you shall not live to hurt another. " her words send fear through his body, and before he could react, she twisted her hands, snapping his neck. The crack was loud. Louder then the whip. And her releasing her hidden blades from her sleeves was enough to send the other two traders running to keep their very lives. Connor was happy to take them out, almost as if sport, the arrows shot from his now released now deadly accurate.

He fell from the tree to his feet, approaching Aveline as she assisted the woman on the ground. " god bless you.. Oh god bless you angel.." She cried, the man whom Aveline assumed was her husband holding her tight in his arms.

The assassin nodded her head to the buggy, the horses still as they were left. " take their coach and escape. You are free now, to live your lives as you please, " though her words were strong and fearless, a warm smile painted her lips as she eyed the small child. " be safe in your travels. "  
Thank you's were given to the both of them as the former slaves left in a hurry, frightened that they could be captured again. Connor looked down at Aveline, her face now blank. There was no pride. No sort of happiness over what she had done. She was a mime, almost harder to read then he himself. And what she did.. He was quickly beginning to realize that his judgements may have been prematurely made.

" your back...are you alright? " his voice was gruff in her ears, being that he had not spoken to her before that moment.  
She had not noticed that the stinging head had sufficed, nor had she noted of it beginning Either. " I am fine. Let us keep moving. "

He nodded, now following her with a sense of confusion. He wanted to know her now. And he wanted to understand her. And understand he did. For every minute of their travels he spent asking questions and gathering information from her. After every battle, the two would sit and tell stories of their past, cleaning their weapons, even laughing at some of the more reckless behaviors they each seemed to front. In the midst of their mission he had learn more about this one person then the people he hunted for combined. He had most certainly misjudged this hellcat, and now saw her in a different light.

Her scars were not from foolish tactics. They each symbolized a sacrifice she had made to save another. And they did not simply paint this woman. They melted into her caramel skin, defining her beauty even further then he had ever seen. No longer was she a fragile twig. No. She was a sharpened sword, sturdy and prepared for any hardship. Her curves were an art of god himself. Her eyes like umber flames and her hair a pitch dark waterfall that cascaded when she removed the clips and ties. Slowly, he allowed himself to mend closer and closer. And it wasn't until he could feel her breath on his face that he understood why Achilles had done this. He finally understood his true mission.

All at once the trials of his life seemed do vanish when her lips touched his. The remorse and anger he felt towards those lost and yet to be found faded when they held each other. The warmth of her skin against his did not compare to any fire. The feel of her hand within his calmed his very soul, and the battles they faced were no longer faced as a simple team. The fought for one another, and fought as one. He was no longer her partner. She was his entire world.

And at the climax of their mission, an ambush took that world away.

" . . ."

Connor woke to the sound of silence. There was no gunfire. There were no shouts. And there were no people. Only the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. His head hurt, and he reached up only to discover the sticky warmth of blood. He propped himself up, looking about at the remains of what was a small devision of soldiers. The ones that were injured, left to die. And those fortunate enough to only have received a scratch or two escaped with no remorse to their fallen brothers. Cowards they were. Thought they had taken the two off guard, he knew they would fight again.

" Aveline. " he spoke her name, assuming she was of hearing distance.  
No reply.  
" Aveline..? " he looked to his right now, where she had stood to fight along side him. And his heart dropped at the sight.

She did not move. She did not see. Her eyes were closed, and she looked s if she was peaceful in dream land despite the bullets that he noticed lodged within her body. He carefully lifted her torso, laying her in his arms. His hands moving across her brow.  
" Aveline?"  
Nothing.  
The normally stoic man shook his companion as she lay limp and bleeding in his embrace. Calling her name did no good, and for the first time since the passing of his mother he felt the sting of tears in his dark eyes.  
" Aveline.." He lowered his lips to whisper to her, receiving no sort of response. He let his hand linger per her heart, and what he felt broke his.  
Nothing. There was no beating. There was no noise. Only silence.  
" no.."  
He cried. He let himself cry. He had fail his mission. For in his arms lay the end of the world.

**Reviews appreciated~ Thank you for reading.**

**SORRY IF TYPOS.**

**dedicated to Missy and James Donohoe.**


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